


little do you know (im still haunted by the memories)

by fingeronmypulse



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Fluff and Angst, Found family?? of sorts, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life, amongst other things, au where charlie and the older brother switch places, but i dont believe that theory at all so thats not the case here, headcanons. so many headcanons., i understand that a large part of the fandom assumes michael is the older brother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingeronmypulse/pseuds/fingeronmypulse
Summary: “Father,” Michael tries to reason, with the kind of patience you could only have from being around screaming children for most of your life and never lose your temper. Charlie could sympathize. “You can’t just kidnap a child.”(The Afton and Emily children are somewhat close, despite all odds.)
Relationships: Elizabeth Afton & Charlotte "Charlie" Emily, Elizabeth Afton & Michael Afton, Michael Afton & Charlotte "Charlie" Emily
Comments: 12
Kudos: 48





	1. come meet my monsters

**Author's Note:**

> There is no timeline. I have a shaky relationship with time (adhd yeahh) and this tends to reflect in my writing. This is mainly for self-indulgent purposes, chapters are mostly in chronological order but may have little continuity in between. I hope you enjoy regardless.  
> Comments are greatly appreciated.

The only person in this house she respects, Charlie thinks, is Michael. Not because she particularly liked him or anything, but because he could look at William in the eyes and tell him when he was being a _complete dumbass._

(If Henry knew that Charlie swore, he would probably be scandalized. Then again, it was his fault for leaving impressionable children in the care of William Afton of all people.)

“Father,” Michael tries to reason again, with the kind of patience you could only have from being around screaming children for most of your life and never lose your temper. “You can’t just _kidnap_ a child.”

“Oh, I didn’t kidnap her,” William (“Call me Uncle Will!!”) grinned. Charlie didn’t like it. It looked unsettling no matter how many times she saw it. “Isn’t that right, Elizabeth?” He fucking _cooed_ at the baby (A baby. He had a baby. _Why._ ) in his arms.

The baby—Elizabeth giggled, as though she wasn’t witnessing the creepiest thing Charlie had ever seen in all of her twelve years. From the way Sammy was whimpering next to her, he agreed.

Sammy quivered at everything and anything. It was like watching a blob of jello balancing precariously on an edge but never completely tilting over. Learning to differentiate between the soft sounds he made had been an experience with a capital E.

Michael, clearly realizing the futility of his actions, gave Charlie a despairing look. She shrugged. It wasn’t like they could take the baby from him and put her out on the streets. They didn’t even know where William had got Elizabeth from. Henry, who was the worst enabler on this side of the planet, would make a cursory effort to protest and then drop the subject in hopes of it going away.

If Charlie knew anything about William, the problem would not go away.

And that’s how Michael gets a younger sibling. All things considered, it could’ve been worse.

***

Elizabeth, Charlie quickly learned, was a menace.

Not a menace in the way Sammy was, painfully shy and likely to start crying at the slightest thing. No, Elizabeth knew what she wanted and exactly how to get it. Anything that was within mortal means was free game.

Naturally, this included the most convincing crocodile tears Charlie had ever seen.

For some reason or the other, adopting Elizabeth (the polite way everyone had taken to calling her induction into the Afton family) had awakened the little parental instincts William possessed. Charlie had known Michael since they were both in diapers and had never seen the slightest inclination to parenting in William before.

Henry had yet to notice. He was working on the latest model of Foxy and very clearly ignoring everything going on around him. Personally Charlie thought it was a wise decision, because if she had to see William crumble in the face of Elizabeth’s crocodile tears one more time, she was going to start thinking she’d finally lost her mind.

Michael was a bit more sensible and less inclined to let his new baby sister (dear lord, she still couldn’t process that) get away with everything. He had prevailed in the face of the dreaded puppy eyes, which was rather impressive for someone who usually let people walk all over him. Charlie had hopes for Michael finally growing a spine. A small spark of hope, but hope nevertheless.

“I swear, it’s like watching a little snake. I never know when she’s going to bite me.” Charlie had grumbled into her lunch tray. Holly patted her back in sympathy. Alex laughed right at her face, so she threw a fry at them.

None of her friends have siblings. Sometimes, Charlie thinks it'd be better if she had the same.


	2. eat my weight in glee

It was supposed to be a bit of fun. It was just supposed to be a prank. Harmless. Spook the kid a little, have a laugh. It was supposed to be  _ fun. _

(Later, Charlie will look back and acknowledge that it had never been fun for Sammy. Later she’ll yell herself hoarse and beg for her younger brother to  _ wake up Sammy c’mon it was just a joke _ and later, much later, she’ll be able to apologise for her mistakes.)

Right now, Charlie is watching her friends drag Sammy over to Fredbear. She’s laughing, a little apprehensive but not enough to tell them to stop. Sammy is five now. He’s a big kid, he can’t go his entire life being scared of some dumb robots.

 _The dumb robots have_ _sharp edges,_ a voice that sounds like Henry whispers in the back of her mind. She shoves it away. If Henry cared enough he’d actually be here, instead of hiding in the backroom at his own son’s birthday party.

“ _Please, let me go!”_ Sammy cries and shakes and Charlie remembers two, three years ago, comparing him to jello. The image nearly sends her into hysterics, the room loud enough to drown out the sound. 

She stops laughing when her friends put Sammy inside Fredbear’s mouth. _That’s going a bit too far,_ she thinks. They were only supposed to bring him close enough to touch the bear. Sammy’s cries had died to whimpers by now. There’s something tingling in her spine, ( _danger danger danger_ _)_ and Charlie goes to take a step forward, tell them to stop and _—_

Fredbear’s mouth snaps down with a sickening _ crunch _ . 

Someone is screaming. Is it her? Is it her brother, red dripping down his face? Is it the audience who’d stood by and watched, not bothering to help?

Someone is screaming.

(Years later, she’ll think the screaming never stopped.)

***

Charlie doesn’t see much of her father, in the weeks that follow Sammy’s hospitalization. By that she means she sees him once, right after the accident ( _ it was an accident I swear—)  _ and then he disappears. Charlie thinks he might be visiting Sammy. If he was, she never sees him there.

Michael is the one who walks with Charlie to the hospital, holding Elizabeth’s hand. Elizabeth is quiet in a way that she usually isn’t. Normally she’d be glad for the brief moment of peace but right now it’s just another glaring reminder of everything that’s gone wrong.

( Her throat is raw from the tears.)

They don’t talk about the elephant in the room. William looks at her, with a strange glint in his eye, and Charlie decides she doesn’t want to hear what he has to say either. People are talking enough already as it is. (That’s what happens when you nearly murder your own sibling, someone you were supposed to _ take care of _ , nevermind that she hadn’t been the one to hold him up to Fredbear’s mouth.) 

C harlie changes the water in the vase left by Sammy’s bedside daily. It’s the least she can do.

He dies three weeks after the Bite.

A month later, Charlie moves in with Aunt Jen.


	3. too much on the line to sit and cry

_A lists of things Charlie Emily does, from age 14 to 16_

  * Graduate from middle school. Everything is a haze of noise and color. She barely remembers any of it.



  * Move in with Aunt Jen. Figure out very quickly, that she’s equally as overprotective as she is willing to let Charlie be independent. It’s a work in progress.



  * Check the mailbox every morning for news from her father. Henry sends a few letters the first several weeks, then the letters get sparser until there’s nothing at all. She can’t even bring herself to be disappointed.



  * Read everything that Elizabeth writes to her; long, winding paragraphs with varying levels of coherency. Michael leaves little doodles on the edges of Elizabeth’s letters. He never was one for words. On darker days, the thought of reading those letters manage to get her out of bed. 



  * Lose contact with all her (former) friends. She does not want to hear Holly’s apologies, or Alex’s awkward attempts at trying to reconcile. If Charlie ever saw Brandon again she was going to do something she’d regret.



  * Scream.



  * Pretend everything is fine. (She is never going to hear Sammy’s voice again or see him grow up, become more comfortable in his own skin.) Everything is fine.



  * Spend several uneasy, sleepless nights staring out the window. The stars are easier to see from here. She loses track after counting up to the hundreds.



  * Explore the house—like a ghost, like something halfway between alive and dead. Lethargy clings to her bones, heavy and threatening to pull her under. Charlie grits her teeth and puts one foot in front of the other anyway. 



  * Count all the cobwebs in the attic. Figure out how to shift her weight to prevent the floorboards from creaking. She knows how many steps there are in the stairs ( _16, the fifth one is weaker than the rest)_ and that the music box forgotten in the attic still works. The familiar melody is enough to lull her to sleep most nights.



  * Sketch the designs for a robot. It’s not very complex, small and fashioned to look friendly. It’s a tribute to the well-loved plush Sammy had clung to, a friend and comfort object rolled into one. Charlie doesn’t know what she wants to program it to do yet. 



  * Start attending public school again after five months. Grief is still sharp in her chest, glass shards with their edges poorly covered in plastic wrap. Charlie breathes and pretends she can’t feel the edges pushing into her rib-cage. 



  * Get a phone ( _fucking finally_ ). There are only three contacts Charlie puts in it. She does not ask why William thinks Elizabeth can responsibly handle a phone. 



  * Spend the weekends taking apart and putting back together nearly every electronic in the house. Aunt Jen shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything. 



  * Play chess with Michael. Elizabeth yells suggestions in the background of the video call, a thousand times more devious than her brother and Charlie combined.



  * Make a friend (?? _Were_ they friends). Jessica is blunt and clever, with an interest in forensics that borders on obsession at times. They eat lunch together and Jessica takes her to the mall. It’s okay. She adds another number to her contacts.



  * Learn to bake with Aunt Jen. It gives her something to do, when the fog in her head refuses to fade. There’s a routine, precision to it that Charlie can appreciate. She sends a box of muffins to Elizabeth. The text Charlie gets in reply is mostly exclamation marks. 



  * Struggle through her classes. It was actually kind of amazing how her biology teacher managed to sound so _boring._



  * Find out through Elizabeth that Michael has a crush. It’s the funniest shit she’s heard in months, and leaves her cackling for a solid three minutes. Michael sends her several sad faces in response.



  * Watch the rain drip down the window, going _pit pat_ on the window sill. (Sammy had been scared of thunderstorms.) She crawls under the covers and reads stories to no one. 



  * Have a panic attack on the floor of her high school’s bathroom. Jessica sits with her, holding Charlie’s hand and humming a low tune. She grips back tightly, thoughts swirling like a never-ending carousel. ( _—ninety years without slumbering, tick tock—)_



  * Breathe in time to her music box, winding it up again and again for hours. It’s soothing. She imagines it’s what falling asleep on clouds would be like.



  * Take a robotics class. It’s nothing at all like sitting at Henry’s worktable and watching him put together animatronics. Charlie doesn’t know whether this is an improvement.



  * Name the robot she’s working on ‘Helpy’. ”That’s a bit silly,” Elizabeth giggled. “Yeah, it is.” Charlie agreed, and smiled at the thumbs up Michael gave her.



  * Send Elizabeth a birthday present (those muffins she likes, tightly wrapped and sent with hopes that it wouldn’t be crushed during transport). There is no reply from either of the Afton siblings for two weeks.



  * Learn how to pick locks when insomnia keeps her up at night. Aunt Jen is surprisingly approving of the whole thing. 



  * Go shopping with Jessica. It’s an altogether bizarre experience. They have fun, even though they hadn’t actually bought anything in the end.



  * ~~Worry~~.



  * Call Michael. They greet each other and then say nothing. Charlie knows how to read his silences—like she knew how to recognize Sammy’s noises, how to make sense of Elizabeth’s disjointed ramblings—and this one feels more painful than anything else. Charlie listens to him breathe ( _quick and sharp, one two three_ ) and ignores the sinking feeling in her stomach when he softly sobs. 



  * Think, _it’s not fair_ and _it’s always the damn birthday parties_ and _are we cursed?_ Michael whispers, “I should’ve stayed with her,” and all Charlie can do is close her eyes. _You tried,_ she wants to say _. Where the fuck were the adults._ Elizabeth was only seven years old and _dead,_ six feet under with Charlie’s brothers and the worms.



  * Let the glass shards she had pieced back together in her chest fall apart again. She is tired and hurt. The shards can be picked up on another day.



  * Bury herself in homework and working on Helpy. Anything to keep away from the fog creeping into the parts of her head and heart Charlie had chased it out of. When that doesn’t work—when she can’t hide herself in equations and ignore the grief bubbling over in her chest any longer—Charlie throws herself under the covers and yells. 



  * Realize, with no small amount of bitterness, that life keeps going on anyway.



  * Get dragged to the park by Jessica. Sit on the old bench and let her friend’s voice wash over her. When Charlie gets back home, she winds up the music box, letting the soft notes chase away the silence. Charlie takes a breathe, then texts Michael.



  * Sit in the kitchen at night, tracing the recipes written in Aunt Jen’s slanted handwriting until there’s indents on the pages. Some of these she knows by heart.



  * Go through the motions. She has semester exams and assignments to complete, and the world keeps turning mercilessly. Leaves grow on trees and fall off just as quickly. _Keep up,_ Charlie tells herself. She still can’t buy ice-cream without her vision getting blurry. (It’ll get easier.)



  * Breathe easier when she hears the pizzeria has closed down. For renovations, she knows, but it’s still a comfort to hear no one would be going in there for months.



  * Finish working on Helpy. True to his name, he’s built to be helpful. She’d painted him with pastel colors, as soft as Charlie can make him look with the plastic plating. She thinks Sammy would like it.




	4. a creature sick as you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude: Michael

Hurricane wasn't exactly a small town. Big enough you could go your entire life without meeting some people, but small enough that you would've heard the latest news about your neighbors, your neighbors-neighbors and their relatives all in the same 24 hours.

The thing about living in Hurricane is that rarely anything ever happens. That tends to translate into a lot of gossip circulating. Ms. Mary-Kate and Ms. Ashley from next door were fighting again. Sam had decided to name his kid Bolbin and everyone had opinions on it. Someone had spray-painted the police station last week. Everyone knew it was Fritz but no one really cared enough to say anything.

That was another thing. No one really cared. Sure, you could have people talking to each other, jovial and arms slung around each others shoulders. The same group of people would parts ways hours later and dismiss anything that had been shared. (Less likely to get hurt, if you never formed proper connections with people.)

No one had cared when a bunch of kids had gone missing— _in broad daylight, no less_ —at the local pizzeria.

Maybe that was a tad harsh. The parents of the missing kids had cared, of course. A significant amount of effort was put into finding them for the first few weeks. Then it kind of just...faded from the collective mind of the townspeople.

Considering it was the same pizzeria where not one, but _two_ people had been bitten through the head, that was a little concerning.

Once was an accident. Twice was a coincidence. Three times?

Well. Freddy Fazbear's closed down before that could happen.

***

Michael waits a week before calling the police, partly because he doesn't particularly care that William is missing. The other part is because he has an art project due that week—William had wanted him to go into something 'respectable', like business or ( _heaven forbid_ ) robotics. It had taken Michael three weeks to convince the man otherwise.

Clay Burke is the one who greets him at the station. Michael knows Clay because Michael knows Fritz and Fritz once babysat Carlton and Clay is Carlton's father. He's alright, Michael supposes.

"My father hasn't been home in a while," Michael bluntly states. He idly wonders if the look in Clay's eyes is concern, or something else. "I figured I should report it."

And that is that.

***

It occurs to Michael, later, after he's asked to fill out a report and give a statement, that maybe he should've shown a little more care. A token for someone who'd been a business man first and a father second.

"No," Fritz says, when Michael asks her. She takes another piece of paper from the stack on the table and begins her twenty-fourth attempt at a paper plane. They're supposed to be studying, but that had devolved into paper crafts an hour ago. "Why should you?"

He shrugs, then picks up attempt number twenty-three from under the table. "It feels like the right thing to do, is all."

Fritz snorts. "If everyone did the right thing all the time, Freddy's would've closed a long time ago."

Michael can't really argue with that.

***

He does not tell Charlie at first, mainly because she has her own troubles to deal with and because Charlie had never liked William in the first place.

("Creepy smile!" she had declared one summer afternoon, pulling a hideous face. Michael only remembered it because he thought it had been the worst face he'd seen on a three year old.)

Then it occurs to him—four days after his visit to the police station—that Charlie would be incredibly pissed off if Michael kept something like that secret. So he texts her. It should be enough.

**_[RA7891]_ **

_so father is missing  
_

_possibly dead. mixed feelings all around_

_do you want his toolbox_

**_[sockmonkey]_ **

_since when  
_

_yea i want the toolbox_

**_[RA7891]_ **

_a while. dw about it  
_

_k expect it in the mail next week_

***

Michael hasn't heard from Henry in years, so he isn't really sure why he's expecting Henry to pop out the woodwork once word gets out that William is missing.

Unsurprisingly, Henry doesn't show. Days turn into weeks and the lights at Freddy's stay shut off. Michael stops by the pizzeria most days after classes, staring at the stained windows until the edges of his vision start to fill with colors. Then he goes and crashes at Fritz's place. It's better than staying at a house that wasn't much of a home.

(It hadn't felt anything like a home, since Elizabeth died.)

Fritz attempts to break into the pizzeria once. Michael doesn't ask why, and she comes back, eyes wide and fingers trembling, he doesn't ask what she found either.

Some things are better left unknown.

***

The hospital is as bright as busy as ever. Which was either a good or a bad thing, depending on how you looked at it.

Michael knows Jeremy's room number by heart now, even though Fritz insists on being the one to lead them there every time. She settles on the chair next to the bed, taking care not to disturb the machines clustered around. Michael stands near the window and pretends he doesn't feel awkward.

He hadn't known Jeremy very well. They'd gone to the same high school but Jeremy had been two years his senior. They hadn't crossed paths often either, though Michael had gone to one of Jeremy's football games once. He was nice, kind in a way that Michael could tell was genuine.

Jeremy probably wouldn't be able to play football again.

The pizzeria had taken so much from so many people, he thinks. Michael listens to the heart monitor beep and wishes Charlie were here.

***

William left a letter, because of course he did. Michael reads it, and again to make sure he hasn't spontaneously started hallucinating. Maybe the sleepless nights were finally catching up to him.

_Put Elizabeth back together,_ Michael reads, and he knows his father was grieving and this could all very well be the ravings of someone who'd finally lost whatever marbles he'd still had.

(Michael also knows his father was brilliant at what he did and if there was a _chance,_ even the slightest chance, he'd be damned if he didn't take it.

He applies to Circus Baby's.

***

_**[sockmonkey]** _

_whats up with the new username  
_

**_[eggsbenedict]_ **

_its who i was meant to be_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RA7891 is absolutely a reference to Never Gonna Give You Up, because I couldn't resist.  
> I have a [tumblr](https://afacelikeyours.tumblr.com/) now, though it's empty at the moment.


	5. fine collection of stranger things

In another world, maybe Michael would've put up less of an effort to keep himself alive. In another world, he doesn't have much else to live for. In another world, all he needs to do is find his sister, no matter the cost.

In this world—

***

"I'm about to do something really fucking stupid," Michael says. Charlie's first thought is _why are you calling me at ten in the night._ Her second thought is _what the fuck_ which is more apt for this entire situation.

"What the fuck," she says out-loud, voice gritty from sleep. "What did you do."

"Nothing yet. I'm _going_ to do something—" There's a shuffling sound from the other end, and if Charlie listens closely she thinks she can hear the faint sounds of vehicles, "—that's probably going to get me killed. Maybe maimed. Or worse, fired."

And _that_ wakes her up.

"Michael," Charlie says slowly, like how she speaks to the stray cat that she and Jessica have been trying to befriend for weeks. "Where are you?"

***

He does the stupid thing _(because Michael never had much of a backbone when it came to his family),_ despite all of Charlie's very reasonable reasons to Not Throw Yourself Into a Deathtrap for The Fifth Night In a Row. Especially when the residents of aforementioned Deathtrap had attempted to kill him via springlock suit the night prior. She had put together a list at some point into the conversation. 

Charlie fumes silently all the way through classes the next morning (much to Jessica's concern) and firmly _does not_ think about Michael, miles away in Hurricane where she couldn't _help_ , where another person she cared about was going to die at the hands of a bunch of robots.

An uneasy feeling settles in her stomach ( _someone is screaming_ ). She does not think about that either.

(Michael doesn't die, but that's another thing entirely.)

***

A brief text conversation, following the fifth shift a certain Michael Afton takes at Circus Baby's Pizza World:

_**[eggsbenedict]** _

_tfw your baby sister dies and comes back as a clown  
_

_though i guess it fits her personality_

**_[sockmonkey]_ **

_do i even want to know  
_

**_[eggsbenedict]_ **

_i found elizabeth  
_

**_[sockmonkey]_ **

_michael_

_buddy_

_pal_

_another term that implies care for your idiot friend_

_she's dead_

**_[eggsbenedict]_ **

_i mean im not saying its ghosts but  
_

_its ghosts_

_she's trying to put butter on her wires_

_gotta go_

**_[sockmonkey]_ **

_???? MICHAEL  
_

***

For some inexplicable reason (which Charlie is willfully ignoring, much like how she ignores most of her problems), Elizabeth stuck around Circus Baby. As a ghost. Michael explains, in his usual flat tone, that she'd tried to take his skin in an attempt to escape the facility. Charlie spends several minutes trying to process that, then ultimately decides that it's not worth trying to rationalize.

"Skin, really? That's a horrible escape plan," is what leaves her mouth instead.

Michael hums on the other end, not quite like he was agreeing with her. He sounded tired. Charlie could imagine how dark the circles under his eyes might've gotten. Then, he calls out away from the phone, "Leave my exotic butters _alone-"_

 _"IT TASTES LIKE TRASH MIKEY_ ," Elizabeth yells back in the background, as energetic and over-the-top as she had been in life. Charlie can't help the incredulous snort that escapes her.

(It wasn't even as though Elizabeth could even taste anything, as she was now. If Charlie thinks about it for more than a few minutes at a time she was going to do something drastic. )

"You know, some days I'm glad we're not biologically related." Michael says.

Elizabeth's voice pipes up, lower than before. There's a faint layer of static coating her words. "What about the other days?"

"Cursing William for kidnapping you, I expect," Charlie dryly remarks, and grins at the exclamation that follows.

***

She's studying with Jessica at their usual spot in the park ( _shaded, away from most of the crowd)_ when, twenty minutes into their calculus homework, Jessica puts down her pencil and gives Charlie a shrewd look. 

Charlie raises an eyebrow. "...Is something wrong?"

"You look happier," Jessica smiles, relief softening her face. "I'm glad." 

Charlie blinks at her, startled. The rush of warmth that fills her is almost dizzying in its intensity.

(It was true, wasn't it? It'd taken her a while to get here, but she was happier.)

Charlie smiles back, and hopes it manages to express the gratitude she can't put into words.


End file.
